


When Legends Meet

by LMA



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 07:16:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4212822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LMA/pseuds/LMA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not long after arriving in the past, Valen journeys to a distant planet to meet with another man whose people have deemed him a prophet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Legends Meet

When Legends Meet

By Laura M. Appelbaum

 

“The targeted planet is in sight, Entil'Zha.” The tall Minbari with the stately bearing and piercing amber eyes stepped to the front of the Cruiser's bridge, his patterned brown coat flaring behind him.  
“Very good,” Valen said, “bring us into orbit.”  
“Are you sure we're in the right place, Entil'Zha? There are no orbiting ships or even satellites, no immediate signs of large cities, industries, nothing.”  
“Nor will you find them. This is a young pre-industrial civilization.”  
“What can we possibly obtain from such utterly primitive people?” Shai Alyt Derann scoffed. Valen looked over at him with the kind of expression he might give a small child.  
“Knowledge of the enemy,” he answered simply.  
“You haven't told us how you know about these people and their world, Entil'Zha,” remarked Marneer, a Worker Caste member Valen had selected as his aide de camp while Zathras was left behind to help run the Station.  
“No, I haven't,” Valen said, and as he did so often, left it at that. Marneer was used to this behavior and grinned. Derann huffed but held his peace. He had sworn his life to Valen and his army, the Anla'shok, but Valen's mysterious demeanor still frustrated him. He was a soldier and he liked to operate on facts plain and simple. The information Valen parceled out rarely complied with that. He was as unfathomable as his sudden appearance with a vast and formidable base two years before had been. But there was something about him, a combination of strength and charisma, fierceness and calm certainty that made it impossible not to want to serve him. Like so many others of their race, the men and women aboard the Cruiser Shil'intar had been his disciples since the day they'd first heard his “Times to Come” speech on Mount H'yela.

“Begin scanning the southern continents,” Valen ordered.  
“What are we looking for, Entil'Zha?”  
“I''ll know it when we find it. Magnify and route images to the main screen.” 

It didn't take long before a search of the largest southern continent revealed massive damage. There were vast clearings that had obviously been created by non-natural means that were far beyond the capabilities of a simple culture. As they increased magnification further, they found within those areas what looked like enormous landing pads, bunker-like buildings and a wholesale removal of not just trees and other vegetation, but evidence of substantial strip and pit mining operations.  
“It looks like some kind of base, maybe for landing space craft?” observed Marneer.  
“Launch a probe into that mountaintop removal mining site.”  
“Launching probe.” The bridge was silent as they awaited data transmission. “Results coming in now, Entil'Zha. Traces of Diridium gas indicates the presence of Quantium 40, although no sizable quantities appear to remain.” Valen nodded his head.  
“Here,” he said, handing his scientist a hand-held computer notebook he'd brought along from Babylon 4. “I've done some calculations. We are looking for a particular mountain range, where the sun rises precisely as indicated once per solar cycle. Is it one of the ranges near the clearings?” He waited patiently while the work was done.  
“Who did this if they have such a rudimentary society, Entil'Zha?” Marneer asked in the interim.  
“The Shadows.” There was an audible gasp from the crew.  
“How then can we be certain the Great Enemy is no longer here? Should we not have brought an entire fleet?” complained Shai Alyt Derann with typically blunt concern.  
“There is nothing left to keep them here,” Valen observed sadly. “Besides, you worry too much, Shai Alyt,” he said more lightly, then instantly remembered how many times Catherine Sakai had said those words to him. Dear God, he wondered for the thousandth time, is she out here someplace? Will I ever find her? He tried his best to shake off that train of thought, but it was always there, at the edge of his consciousness. Even when he wasn't thinking about it, he was thinking about it.  
“Perhaps you do not worry enough, Entil'Zha, at least where your own safety is concerned. You behave like a man who is certain he will not die in this war.”  
“Hmm,” Valen replied with a small smile to himself. The scientist at the sensors spoke up again.  
“I have found it, Entil'Zha! That location would be precisely here,” the Ranger answered, projecting a map overlay atop the live images of the terrain below.  
“Now scan for any signs of civilization.”  
“It appears there is some kind of development here in the mountains. It is well hidden but there are numerous controlled fires in the area, perhaps indicative of a small and primitive city.”  
“That is where I will go then. Prepare a flyer; Marneer and I will travel to the surface in the hopes of locating our subject.”  
“Marneer?” Derann exclaimed with familiar disgust; he made no secret of his disapproval of Valen's choice of a Worker Caste member as his aide. “How can this farmer,” he spat out the word, “possibly provide adequate security for you, Entil'Zha? I will form a party of no less than six of the strongest Warriors aboard and we shall accompany you.”  
“That is unnecessary, Derann. I will not risk frightening the inhabitants with a display of soldiers and armament.”  
“Then we will carry only our denn'boks. You must let us do this, Anla'shok Na. While it is a credit to your honor that you are fearless in combat, there may be other kinds of unforeseen threats. You would not have named me Shai Alyt if you did not respect my abilities and analysis. Therefore I ask that you do not dismiss me so easily.” Valen looked over at the other man and sighed faintly. He did have a point.  
“Very well then, Derann. You and two others may also join Marneer and I. But you are to make no hostile moves without my direct order, even if you think I'm in danger.” Derann nodded curtly, only partly mollified.  
“As you will, Entil'Zha.”  
“Assemble and instruct your team and meet Marneer and I in the launch bay in ten minutes.”

XXX

Always eager to pilot anything that flew, Valen took on the challenge of navigating their small craft himself, descending through the atmosphere and bringing the flyer in for a soft landing in a large valley less than twenty miles from the high elevation settlement they had earlier detected. As he stepped outside into the fresh mountain air, he took in a deeply contented breath; it had been a long time since he'd set foot on any planet, including Minbar. When he was planet-bound for too long, he grew restless for space, but the opposite was also true. Derann and his team immediately fanned out in search of potential threats to Valen's safety among the tall trees and dense ground cover.

“It's good, if surprising, to see the Shadows left at least this one area untouched,” Marneer observed as he disembarked and stood beside Valen. Valen nodded silently. “It's warm here.”  
“Let's hope we can say the same about the inhabitants. All clear, Derann?”  
“So far,” the Warrior admitted cautiously.  
“Alright then. Let's head up into the mountains. I think I see a trail ahead.” As they proceeded through the valley into the hills, the party passed numerous abandoned farms and encountered some large, once-domesticated animals, which set Derann on edge, but they saw no people. The terrain grew more and more rugged as the trail narrowed and followed along steep cliff edges, forcing Derann to reluctantly stay behind Valen, who led the way. Streams and long, narrow waterfalls began to appear and as they climbed in elevation the vegetation grew sparser and less lofty and the air more familiarly chilly. During the second hour of their increasingly difficult hike, they were able to see the first signs of habitation; thin blue-grey wisps from fires appeared in the sky. Finally the trail widened and small terraced fields of cultivated plants lined it on one side. On the other there were what seemed to be scattered homes carved into the rocks and tucked into the mouths of natural caves. Valen paused for a while at a patch of small lily-like white flowers, bending over to study the form of the bloom more carefully. Derann looked away, disinterested, but also a bit bothered as to why his Master was so prone to doing twee Religious Caste things like that. Finally Valen straightened up, tossed the hood of his coat back over his head and resumed the hike. 

As they came around a switchback, they were finally confronted by minbarioids; a trio of tall, tannish-brown beings, hairless like the Minbari but with dark spots of concentric red and black spots dotted all over their leathery skin, and frightening red eyes. Their clothing was the polar opposite of the Minbari's, consisting of tight, body hugging designs crafted from various types of heavy leathers and they wielded unfriendly-looking farm implements in a threatening manner. The Minbari had never seen such people before and closed ranks around Valen, but he waved them off and walked toward the aliens, who similarly had never seen anyone like the Minbari but held their ground bravely.

“Greetings,” he said in a language his own team couldn't understand, pulled both fists against his chest, bowed his head deeply and then then lowered his hands to his sides showing open and weaponless palms. “We come in peace; I am called Valen and we too are enemies of the Great Darkness.” The three aliens exchanged confused glances.  
“What are you? How do you know our language?” one asked, without lowering his scythe.  
“We are from a distant planet called Minbar,” he said, pushing back his hood so they could get a better look at him. “As to your second question, the fact that I know your language is more important than how that happens to be, don't you think?” The aliens relaxed slightly.  
“What do you know of the Great Darkness?”  
“We've been fighting them in space for several years. These are but a handful of my soldiers; Derann, Marneer, Greenar, Tarval and Verlay.” He pointed to each of them in turn. “I have come in the hope of meeting with the leader known as G'Quan.”  
“You have heard the word of G'Quan?” the second Narn asked in surprise, as he dropped his spade toward the ground.  
“A little. His words have travelled to places you cannot imagine. I am hoping to learn more and to meet with him in person.  
“How do we know you don't work for the Dark Soldiers and simply want to find and kill him?” Valen smiled and shrugged a little.  
“You can't. You'll just have to trust me,” he replied honestly.  
“Go get Na'ten,” one told another, “he'll know what to do.” The third Narn nodded and ran back up the path.  
“What are they saying?” Derann asked with a touch of frustration.  
“They don't know if they can trust us to be friendly and not Shadow spies.”  
“Spies!” he retorted, insulted. Valen gave him a wry half-smile.  
“What would you think if they came to Minbar or the Station asking for me?”  
“I would never have let them enter our atmosphere and land in the first place,” Derann said confidently.  
“Then I guess it's good that he,” Valen indicated one of the two remaining Narns with a gesture of his head, “is not you.” The first farmer returned with a round-faced and wrinkled companion and about a half dozen more men, each of them stoutly built and bearing contrived weapons. Derann again tried to put himself between them and Valen, but Valen once more pushed past him gently.  
“Who are you? Why are you here?” asked the elder warily.  
“I am Valen of Minbar, leader of the Army of Light also known as the Anla'shok. I am hoping to meet with G'Quan and discuss our common enemy.”  
“The behavior of that one tells me you come to us armed.”  
“A fair assumption. Here. This is my weapon.” He pulled his denn'bok out from under his brown coat and offered it in the palm of his hand.  
“Valen!” Derann exclaimed with alarm.  
“It's alright, Shai Alyt,” Valen assured him as the older Narn took his pike and examined it closely before pocketing it.  
“A denn'bok is not to be handled by off-worlders!” Greenar complained. Valen smiled again.  
“Are you really surprised that I would break tradition?” He turned back to the Narns. “I give you my word my men will not draw theirs, but it is a matter of pride to retain them on their persons,” he explained calmly.  
“We don't know you, stranger; your word carries no weight here.” Valen nodded sympathetically.  
“I understand.” He held out both arms, his fists together. “Then take me prisoner. Do whatever you need to do in order that I may convince you we are who and what I say, and that I seek G'Quan for our mutual benefit.” He looked at the increasingly tense group of Minbari. “Remember my instructions; do nothing threatening no matter what they do or you'll have to answer to me when this is over.” The Minbari all blanched at the prospect.  
“Yes, Entil'Zha,” they said as one, with a single exception.  
“Let them take one of us instead. I volunteer,” Derann offered. Valen shook his head and Derann seethed quietly. It was nearly impossible to protect Valen against himself. Valen looked again to the suspicious Narns.  
“This is no trick, I assure you,” he told them. “I will go without resistance and they will do nothing to stop you. You may of course restrain them as well, but I think it will say more about me if you do not and yet they follow peacefully at my command. You can see that they are all warriors for whom submission is typically impossible.” The first three Narns and the one called Na'ten eyed each other and after a quick, whispered discussion one of them took out a length of rope and began to bind Valen's wrists.  
“Very well. Come with us,” ordered Na'ten, pulling along Valen with a lead of rope. The strange party had only made it a few yards before he turned with surprising speed for his age and sucker punched Valen in the gut. Valen doubled over with a gasp and the Minbari all put their hands to their weapons, struggling with themselves not to draw them. To everyone's surprise, once Valen caught his breath, he began to laugh; a deep, rich sound.  
“Well played, Na'ten, well played. Not that I expected any less from a people who actually drove the Darkness from their world.”  
“You know of this too?” the Narn asked, taken aback.  
“I know of many things. Narn bravery is among them. But you have me at a disadvantage,” he said as they resumed their trek deeper into the mountains, “as I do not know who you are.”  
“I am the head of our settlement. We have no formal government at this time as most of our leaders were hunted down and killed by the Darkness. We praise the Sun daily for sparing G'Quan and for the sacred words of G'Lan.” Valen had heard of G'Lan but was unsure if he was another Narn prophet or a Vorlon in angelic disguise. If only he'd taken the time to read more about Narn history back when he was Sinclair. Thank goodness he'd at least taught himself their spoken tongue.  
“We saw farms in the valley below; is the Darkness why you have abandoned them?” Valen asked, following with a translation for his team.  
“Yes. We were forced into the mountains for safety. Those that the Dark Soldiers did not kill outright were enslaved in the mines. Whatever it was they made our people dig up sickened and killed them in a matter of hours, every one of them. The suffering ...”  
“I'm sorry,” Valen responded with emotion, but in his mind he was wondering what the Shadows wanted Quantium 40 for. The ones he'd encountered in the Twenty-third Century hadn't needed jumpgates and Q40 was primarily used to build them. Perhaps they were constructing gates for the benefit of their allies. Yes, that seemed a reasonable conclusion.  
“We would all be slaves or dead, if it were not for the leadership of G'Quan.”  
“Do not doubt your own resilience,” Valen assured Na'ten. “A general is only as strong as the people who back him up.”  
“Nonsense. We owe our strength entirely to G'Quan.”  
“Believe that if you will, but in my own experience the opposite is true. It would not matter what I said or did if my people were not willing to sacrifice and fight in my Name. All I've done really is to draw them together.” Behind him the Minbari were shaking their heads “no” as he translated his words, as certain of his dynamism as the Narn was of G'Quan's. For one of the things that elevated Valen was his modest self-depreciation. Unlike the vast majority of Warrior Caste clan leaders before him, Valen shied away from self-aggrandizement and was unwilling to accept without protest the accolades showered upon him. Such behavior in the Warrior Caste was not unheard of, but it was a very rare thing. It was, the Minbari Warriors thought, another one of his Religious Caste traits, but nonetheless one of the many things that ennobled him.

The Narns led them further into the mountains until at last they came to a high valley set between two enormous peaks. There Valen and his team at last saw the hidden settlement Na'ten and his compatriots lived in. It was comprised of thousands of cliff-dwellings variously and hastily carved or built of stone in endless rows one above another, linked between levels by shallow foot holes dug into the cliff faces. Narns of both sexes and all ages bustled about, conducting the activities of everyday life as best they could in their mountain hold. It reminded Valen of pictures of Mesa Verde back on Earth, only larger and set at a higher elevation.

“How many of you live here?” Valen queried.  
“Some twenty thousand. Once upon a time there was but a monastery here, but then the Darkness fell upon our world and everything changed.”  
“I see.”  
“Come,” Na'ten instructed with a tug on the rope that bound Valen's hands and leaving the rest of the farmers at the door he led the Minbari troop up a stone stairway and into a surprisingly large cavern home, dimly lit with the red lights the Narns preferred. The floors and walls were covered with weavings and skins, also predominantly red and a woman knelt at a fire pit, tending to it as she cooked something in a pot. She looked up as they entered, then stared transfixed by the sight of the strange Minbari with their pale, almost white skin and their alarming bone crests. “This is Na'Lon, my mate,” Na'ten explained. “You will join us for fourth meal while I decide what to do with you.”  
“That is very kind of you, thank you,” Valen said with a respectful nod of his head. “But aren't you frightened, now that we outnumber you?”  
“Who said we are outnumbered?” Na'ten said slyly and as Valen squinted into the semi-darkness he made out the shadowy figures of a number of other Narns concealed there.  
“You are a cautious man,” Valen congratulated him.  
“The War has taught us there is no other way to be. Which is why you and your group confound me. I expected along the way here that at least one of them; probably him,” he said, indicating Derann, “would try to overpower us. And yet you have been peaceable as you promised. Now is that because you have larger plans for after you have allayed my fears, or is it because you are genuinely who you say?”  
“I'm afraid my answer would only appear self-serving,” Valen apologized as he stood with his bound hands between his legs. Na'ten glanced at them.  
“Duplan, bring me those chains we use for criminals.” After some rummaging, a younger male Narn came forward with a length of iron chain attached to a heavy cuff. Valen sat calmly and quietly as the Narn untied him and then used the manacle to secure his left hand to the chain and pushing away a tapestry, linked it to a bolt hidden behind it in the wall. The height of it forced Valen to sit down and his companions arrayed themselves around him protectively. Through it all, Derann and the two warriors accompanying him twitched unhappily, but Marneer took his cue from Valen and tried to keep calm. Valen rubbed his freed right wrist.  
“What about them?” he asked, “or are you beginning to trust my word?”  
“Not necessarily,” Na'ten said, turning his head to the other Narn, who revealed a long, curved sword from beneath his cloak. “But he could take off your head in the time it took your friends to get to their feet.” He regarded Valen curiously. “Do you know that we didn't realize there were other races in the sky before the Great Enemy's terrible black ships screamed into our existence?” the Narn admitted. “Now you are here seeking G'Quan, much as the Dark Soldiers did. Why should I trust you? For that matter, what makes you think I even know where he is?”  
“Well,” said Valen, leaning back against the wall and causing the chain to rattle, “for starters, the northern hemisphere of your planet is sparsely uninhabited. Even were that not true, it is near here that the Darkness established a base and G'Quan was instrumental in driving them from your world. A particular, uncommon plant that he has written poetry about grows in these mountains. Therefore it's logical to assume he's somewhere on this continent, in this region, perhaps even in this settlement, which is a well-situated place from which to have led a rebellion. How am I doing so far?” he smiled.  
“Some of your assumptions would not be wrong,” Na'ten acknowledged, growing more entranced by Valen with every word the Minbari spoke.  
“Then you tell me you're the leader here, and if anyone would know where G'Quan is, the head of the largest settlement nearest the Enemy's camp seems likely. That we were brought to your attention so quickly, well, that's just good luck.” He paused. “Is that k'wan I smell cooking?”  
“Yes, they are readily caught in the streams here. But how ...”  
“As I said, the Universe has revealed many things to me.”  
“But not how to contact G'Quan,” Na'ten smiled. Valen laughed back.  
“Not exactly, no. For that I need your help.”  
“For a man in chains you seem unusually sure of getting it.” Valen half-smiled mysteriously.  
“Perhaps.”  
“It is time to eat,” Na'ten declared, rising to his feet. He walked over and spoke to Na'Lon and she went to get a pile of ceramic bowls for everyone. Six Narns emerged from their dark corners and surrounded the fire pit eagerly and all took the time to study the Minbari carefully. As the food was passed around, Derann frowned at it suspiciously.  
“They could be trying to poison you, Entil'Zha.”  
“We're all eating out of the same pot,” Valen observed with a lack of concern.  
“How do you know we can stomach their food? You should refrain until the rest of us ...” Before he could continue with his warning, Na'ten was addressing Valen again.  
“Are yours a spiritual people, Valen?”  
“You could say so. We deeply value our relationship to the Mind of the Universe.”  
“Then you will join us in a prayer?”  
“Gladly. Unless of course it is one that expresses hope for our demise.” It was Na'ten's turn to laugh.  
“I have decided I like you, Valen. But him ...” he gestured with his long chin at Derann, “I'm not so sure about. He worries me.”  
“Me too,” Valen quipped, making sure to translate the conversation with a glint in his eye.

The Narns all knelt and faced the same direction, and Valen indicated to his team that they should follow suit, although the short length of chain made him only half able to comply himself.  
“O, unto you, most sacred Light, from your home in the Sun that brightens our days, we give thanks for this food and our continued sustenance, and for the strength you afford us, yea, do we pray to you.”  
“To you we give thanks, to you we pray,” the other Narns chimed in.  
“Sun worshippers,” Derann muttered disgustedly.  
“You shouldn't mock anyone's beliefs, Shai Alyt,” Marneer dared to whisper back. Derann scowled at him a little harder than usual.  
“What, are you now, Religious Caste?”  
“I'm only repeating the words of Valen.” The man himself shushed them. Na'ten was making a few mystical gestures and then the Narns began to eat. Taking their lead from Valen, the Minbari followed cautiously.  
“This is delicious,” Valen thanked Na'ten and Na'Lon. She nodded in thanks but found herself incapable of looking away from his strange appearance.  
“Tell us about your people, Valen. Those things on your heads; what are they?”  
“You mean our bone crests?”  
“Bone, is it? Do they serve a purpose?”  
“Several. For one thing, it's very difficult to knock us unconscious; you might want to make note of that,” he joked. “They also allow us to represent our Clan and Castes. As for the third, well, that's a bit too personal for us to discuss.” His men all sniggered when he translated the question and his reply. Their crests were a major erogenous zone.  
“And do you have females?”  
“Not among us here, but yes. There are many who serve aboard my space ship.”  
“Have you any pouchlings?” Valen chuckled.  
“I don't even have a pouch.”  
“How unfortunate for you.”  
“I manage. How many do you have, Na'ten?”  
“Five. All grown of course.” He was quiet for a while, as if remembering something. “You say you've fought the Great Enemy in the sky? How long have you been able to travel in the realm above?”  
“Almost sixty years. Luckily we first encountered the Enemy only a few years ago and so far we've been able to keep them from landing on our world. How did your people get them to leave, Na'ten?” The Narn cast his eyes to the floor and answered slowly.  
“At a terrible cost. But that is something you should ask G'Quon about.” Valen sat up at attention and set down his bowl.  
“Then you'll take us to him?” Na'ten squinted at him a bit, then inspected the other Minbari before looking back at Valen.  
“I have not yet decided. Such a choice is not to be made hastily.”  
“Of course. I understand. Am I correct that your days are thirty-one hours long?”  
“Yes; at this time of year we have about twenty hours of daylight.”  
“Then you must still have routine tasks to perform today. I offer my men's labor for whatever use you would like to put them to.”  
“That's quite generous of you. But a part of me wonders if it is perhaps a ploy of yours to get to know our settlement and routines.”  
“The thought never crossed my mind,” Valen answered honestly. “It just seems pointless to have them sit here with me doing nothing until you make your decision.”  
“It would be easy if only there were a Mind Walker to ...” Na'ten's voice quickly strangled off into silence. Valen watched him a little, then politely looked away and addressed his troop.  
“You are to assist Na'ten with whatever he requests of you. Unless,” he continued, anticipating the objections, “you feel you are too weak to do chores.” He looked Greenar, Tarval and Verlay in the eyes and finally settled his piercing gaze on Derann. He spoke in Narnish again; “they are yours to do whatever you wish. Marneer,” he pointed him out, “is a skilled agriculturalist.”  
“Hmm. It is time to harvest our ruti pod crop. Perhaps you would lend them to me for that.”  
“Absolutely. None of them speak your language, but I'm sure if you briefly demonstrate what you need done they'll be able to comply.” He spoke again to his men in Lenn'ah. “Apparently there is some farm work to be done. I expect each of you to put your best efforts into this. You'll see to it, Shai Alyt?” Derann twisted his lips and forced out the affirmative response Valen knew it was killing him to give.  
“Thank you. Let us go then,” Na'ten said as he rose to his feet and gestured for the Minbari to follow. Greenar and Durann shot backward glances at Valen, who gave them a stern and expectant expression in response. As they finished eating, the other Narns passed their bowls to Na'Lon, who gathered them together and also left the cave. Finally alone, Valen leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, thinking. The Mind Walkers, he wondered. What was the connection?

XXX

It was a miserable crew of Warriors who returned to bed down beside Valen that night, and while none of them dared to complain to him about doing farm work, their private displeasure was obvious. Marneer, however, promptly launched into a list of agricultural best practices he thought Valen should translate and educate the Narn about. Na'ten released Valen briefly, under armed guard, to stretch his legs and use the latrine, and then he was back in chains.

“How long are we expected to watch them treat you this way?” Derann demanded, clearly feeling that it was an attack on his own honor and that of the Anla'Shok as a whole to sit by and allow Valen to be kept a prisoner.  
“Treat me what way, Derann? With suspicion? We've already established that you'd jump right past that into aggression if the situation were reversed. As for what you will do, you will continue to wait and to work until I tell you otherwise.” Derann grunted. Then he turned to Tarval.  
“I will sit guard for the next four hours and wake you to take the following shift.”  
“Yes, Shai Alyt.”  
“Afraid they'll kill me in the dark?” Valen asked with a smile.  
“Anything is possible, Entil'Zha. We know nothing of these people. And this way you yourself may sleep securely.”  
“Very well,” Valen replied, readjusting the way he was leaning against the wall and using his free right hand to pull the hood down over his eyes. Despite their freedom of motion, all the other Minbari were in similar positions rather than daring to lie flat on their backs. Valen inwardly shook his head; he still hadn't gotten to the root of that superstition.

XXX

The night passed uneventfully, with the next long day finding the Anla'shok put to work in construction. Secretly, Valen was enjoying watching his prideful Warriors reduced to day laborers. Na'ten still refused to say if he was going to trust Valen enough to tell him where G'Quan was, and Valen didn't push the issue. He spent a lot of his time planning strategies for the War and wondering whether he'd have to make new ones after eventually talking with G'Quan. The rest of the time he found himself brooding over Catherine's disappearance and the question of whether he'd ever find her again. “Perhaps ...” Kosh had said and he held onto that word and the hope it offered like a lifeline. As the week progressed however, he began losing his patience with the inability to move around and found himself close to apologizing to his men about all the seemingly thankless work they were so unhappily performing for the Narn at his request. On the sixth day, he sent Greenar and Verlay back to the flyer so they could contact the Shil'intar and advise it to remain in orbit and not to send down any sort of rescue party.

On the seventh night, Valen awoke to a smothering sensation, only to find it was someone throwing a sack over his head while a second person manacled his free hand together with the other.

“What ...”  
“Shhh ...” He was told as he was pulled to his feet and felt a blade pressed below his left shoulder blade. He forced himself to relax and let them march him out of the cavern. He had no way of knowing if his guard had fallen asleep or been otherwise silenced. Each of his arms were held as he was taken through the darkness. Anytime he tried to ask what was going on, his kidnappers demanded he remain silent. As he stumbled along, kept upright by the hands on his biceps, Valen briefly entertained the thought that his strategy might have been a mistake. But if they were simply going to execute him out of the earshot of his men, they'd surely gone far enough away already. 

What seemed like hours passed by, without a single stop in their journey. Occasionally they'd remove the bag from over his head so he could negotiate a more technical section on their route, but as soon as he was on level ground again, they covered him back up. Finally they came to a stop and he was ordered to sit down. The hood was taken off and he discovered himself on an elaborate rug laid out on a ledge someplace in the mountains where the air seemed thinner and the sun was beginning to rise over the peaks. 

A caped figure approached; an especially tall and muscular Narn with several ugly scars across what was otherwise an attractive looking face – for a Narn. Even from a distance there was an aura around him, an air of calm authority that Valen noticed but didn't recognize as identical to the one he projected himself. He scrambled to his feet and tried his best to offer the traditional salute despite the irons around his wrists.

“Greetings, G'Quan. I am Valen, a Minbari. I am profoundly honored to meet you at last.” G'Quan returned the salute properly, then turned to one of the Narns who'd brought Valen on the long trek.  
“Is this how we treat our guests now? Chaining them up? Undo those at once,” he said in an authoritative baritone. “My apologies, Valen, but my followers have been forced into paranoia by recent events.”  
“There is nothing to apologize for, G'Quan. My people are likewise a suspicious lot where my own safety is concerned. I only hope they haven't damaged Na'ten's village looking for me.”  
“I have heard of their loyalty. It speaks well of you, Valen.” He gestured for Valen to sit back down and as he did likewise, he looked at another of his people. “Bring our guest some gleah to drink; he must be thirsty from his travels.” G'Quan turned his attention back to Valen. “I must ask … how is it you knew of me? I am certain our races have never met before and equally certain we are strangers to one another. Yet you asked for me by name.” A wry half-smile crept to Valen's lips.  
“I have been … gifted with both foreknowledge and foresight. And in this way, I know you. I know of your leadership, of your words, of something of your spirit. The day will come when Narn will venerate your legacy. I have seen that day.” A baffled and uneasy look spread across G'Quan's face.  
“How … how is this possible?”  
“It simply is. More, I cannot say.” G'Quan searched Valen's face carefully, and their eyes locked, scarlet and amber, the moment broken only when a Narn handed Valen a carved horn to drink from. Valen thanked him and G'Quan continued to question him.  
“How do you know our language?”  
“Does it really matter? I simply do.”  
“Hmm. What brought you to Narn?”  
“I couldn't let the opportunity to meet you pass me by,” Valen smiled.  
“Again you leave me puzzled. But no matter. I am told you claim to have an army. An Army of Light?”  
“Yes. It is known among the Minbari people as the Anla'shok and I am their Entil'Zha.”  
“I am unfamiliar with that title.”  
“Are you familiar with the Vorlons? The winged beings of light?” G'Quan's eyes grew wide at Valen's description. “It's one of their words. It means 'one who brings the future.'”  
“You have seen G'Lan?” Ah, Valen thought, he was a Vorlon avatar. Question answered.  
“Not G'Lan, but two other such beings.”  
“Two? Then you must be a holy man.” Valen tried to declaim the undeserved praise.  
“I am merely an instrument of the Universe's will. It is no coincidence that you and I are both here together. We fight the same battle for the same cause; we fight for our people, for peace, and for all life.”  
“We fight for the salvation of our souls,” G'Quan offered. Valen nodded.  
“That's another way of putting it. Tell me, G'Quan, when did the Dark Enemy arrive on Narn? What happened?”  
“It was nearly ten years ago,” he began. “Before we saw their ships descending like giant black spiders from their webs, the Mind Walkers heard their unholy screams in their minds. No one understood what it was until later when we began to see them in the sky. At around the same time, G'Lan disappeared. This frightened us, as our oldest legends assured us that the Light Guardians had always been here, protecting and guiding us. It seemed as though we had been abandoned.” Valen nodded, even as he wondered to himself why the Vorlons hadn't stayed to defend Narn but had joined with the Minbari. It was as much a puzzle to him now as it was in the Twenty-third Century. “They are a dying race. We should let them pass,” Kosh had said to him. But whose fault was that?  
“Meanwhile, the ships kept coming. Some believed they were not aliens from another world but devils sent to warn us of our unworthiness in the eyes of the Sun god and that that was the reason why the Light Guardians had left. It shames me to say it, but our society began to tear itself apart from the inside as various factions promulgated different solutions, different sacrifices to expiate our sins. Chaos began to take hold of us.” He gestured to his companions to bring him a cup and refill Valen's. “Meanwhile, we had no actual contact with the Others – they landed in remote places, so eventually our fears began to subside and life seemed to return to normal for everyone except the Mind Walkers, who told of terrible dreams, incomprehensible nightmares. Being such a small fraction of our population, however, their visions were easily discounted.”  
“What kind of dreams did they describe?”  
“Their stories sounded fantastic; they talked about two kinds of aliens; one that seemed to phase in and out of view with multiple legs, angular bodies, and three rows of glowing eyes and the other with two legs, sharp fangs, horns and claws.”  
“But they came together in the same ships?”  
“Ships of similar design, yes, but not of the same size. Perhaps this will help … G'Koth, bring me my sketchbook.”  
“You've been recording these events?”  
“Just a few sketches, some random thoughts. Here, see this? These are their ships. Are they the same ones you've been fighting?” Valen took the parcel of papyrus-like papers in his hands and shivered slightly in recognition. There was something disturbing about the Shadow ships even when they were crudely sketched in ink. Something evil, however overly dramatic that term might seem, was in their very design.  
“Yes. That's them. My people know them as 'the Shadows.' What's this?” he asked, shuffling through to the next sheet.  
“These are the ones we call the Dark Soldiers.” He pointed to an illustration in profile of one of the two-legged creatures he had described before. “And this is from a description a Mind Walker gave me of the Great Enemy.”  
“I've never seen anything like these before,” Valen began, “I wondered when I would first see the face of the Enemy. What happened next?”  
“Some of us listened to the Mind Walker's warnings, myself among them, but most did not until years later when the Dark Soldiers arrived from over the mountains and into the valleys we called home. Then everyone could hear in their minds and see with their eyes what the Na'fariki had been warning us about, but it was too late. The Soldiers kidnapped men and women from their homes and forced them into deadly labors by the hundreds of thousands. They burned whole forests, destroyed our cities, massacred women and children for no discernible reason other than that they could. We had no choice except to abandon the places where we had lived for centuries and seek refuge in remote mountain passes where we cobbled together what homes we could, such as the refugee settlement you've been staying at. Millions fled for the land bridge to the northern continent; I have no idea if they made it or what befell them if they did. Everywhere there was despair, the voices of the dying and the enslaved, the sobbing of those hidden away. Do you have any idea, Valen, of what it's like for an entire race to share in the terror of what seems to be utter annihilation? For a people to lose their dreams? To lose their very hope of a future?” An unforgotten sadness welled up inside of Valen, and while his eyes were still upon G'Quan's drawings, his mind was someplace else, someplace a thousand years away inside a damaged Starfury as his friends, his fleet, all Humanity, died around him. It was several minutes before Sinclair became Valen again and returned to Narn. “I apologize; I see that you do. I did not mean to upset you; only to tell you of our experience.”  
“What? No, it's alright, G'Quan. Please continue.”  
“At that dark moment, I had a vision of G'Lan in my dreams. A dream, yet he seemed to be as real to me as you do sitting across from me. When he spoke to me, he ignited some bright white spark, a fire in my soul. Why I was chosen I cannot say; who would dare to guess the motives of the divine? But I knew it was my destiny to unite my people, to kindle in them that flame I received from G'Lan and to lead a rebellion. Was it like that for you?” Valen thought for a second, then shook his head from side to side as he handed the sketches back.  
“No. No for me it was a slow building of signs and portents, a trail of mystery spread across the last fifteen or sixteen years of my life that I only deciphered with some help fairly recently. When revelation came it was a shock, yes, but it was as much the shock of wondering how I hadn't seen it coming sooner. But then I suppose the recognition of one's destiny is different for all of us lucky enough to discover it.” G'Quan nodded solemnly. “Did G'Lan tell you anything else in your dream?”  
“Yes, he instructed me that if enough Mind Walkers banded together, they could send a psychic message to confuse the Dark Soldiers long enough for others to kill them with whatever physical weaponry was at hand.”  
“And was that true?” Valen exclaimed at this revelation. “Did it work? How many of them did it take?”  
“It depended upon the strength of the Na'fariki in question. Sometimes it was as few as four, other times, it took a dozen. The important thing was that at last we regained the hope of survival. Word spread across the continent and slowly we began to fight back, to regain our strength of will. On a few occasions the Mind Walkers were even able to cause the smaller ships to crash.”  
“This is invaluable news, G'Quan. I had no idea anything like that was even possible.”  
“It comes with a grave caveat you would be wise to consider. You see, for a time we believed we would quickly regain our planet for ourselves. The building projects and the mines went idle and the rumors of men and women being forced into ships, never to be seen again, ceased. But it did not last. Gradually it became clear that the Great Enemy had a new goal; to kill every Mind Walker, and their children, and their grandchildren, and their brothers and sisters and cousins. We tried to protect them; we fled further into the mountains with them, we launched sea-going ships to escape the continent, but the word that came back from afar was that somehow the Great Enemy always found them, always killed them, no matter where they went.”  
“I'm so sorry.”  
“They did not murder only those who demonstrated the ability to journey in other minds, but every last relative of the Mind Walkers, as if they all posed some invisible threat or disease that the Enemy was susceptible to. The death toll as you can imagine, was immense. We still pray that perhaps in some remote corner of the world there are a few who yet survive, but in truth we have no evidence of this. As far as we can tell, there isn't a single Mind Walker's family left alive on Narn. Valen, if your race has Na'fariki they are at grave risk. If the Enemy learns about them it'll target them as well!”  
“But if they can help turn the tide against the Darkness … I don't mean to insult you, G'Quan, but we Minbari are more advanced in our technology. I question whether the Shadows could do to us what they did to you.”  
“Do not allow your people to become victims of hubris, Valen.”  
“That is valuable advice, G'Quan, and I will consider it carefully. But we still have the 'Light Guardians' on our world and accompanying my Army. And several other strong allies have joined the cause. Because of that we have defenses you lacked. Either way, I wish I could have been here to help your people in their fight,” he assured the Narn, “but it wasn't possible for me to leave the front and come here any earlier. All I can offer you now is my assurance that the Shadows; the Great Enemy, has left. It's now safe for you to return to the places you lived before.”  
“Is this among your visions?”  
“It's a personal promise,” he smiled. “I'll have the Anla'shok protect your planet until the end of this War when the Shadow threat is over.”  
“But the Darkness will return one day,” G'Quan responded gravely. “I'm certain of it.” Valen stared off into the brightening sky for a minute. It was always a delicate dance for him in deciding if what he wanted to say would alter the future or if he should just go with his immediate instincts.  
“Yes. You're right. But not for hundreds and hundreds of years. Your own race will have an army in space by then, just as mine does now.” G'Quan passed his drinking horn off to one of his companions and sought out Valen's eyes again.  
“You are withholding something from me.” Valen's eyes dimmed slightly and he nodded almost imperceptibly.  
“When they eventually return Narn will suffer a great number of casualties. But my army will take up the fight again and will ally with your people among others. The leaders of that day will dedicate their lives to achieving the greater goals you and I fight for. And it's my deepest, most heartfelt hope that they'll succeed.”  
“But you do not know if that will happen.”  
“No,” Valen conceded. “I have not seen the outcome of that battle. But they will strive and not yield. Of that I'm certain.”  
“You have great faith in the future.” The corners of Valen's mouth turned up.  
“Yes, I do. And I believe that kind of faith is never misplaced. In the end it's the most important belief we can hold onto.”  
“Again we find ourselves in agreement.”  
“G'Quan, about those drawings and thoughts you've started to write down? You need to keep at it. Write it all down; everything you've told me, everything you've learned from your experiences. You have a unique perspective, knowing as you do not just the Enemy's appearance and that of their ships, but their goals and tactics too. Just as important, you knew what to say and do in order to hold your people together in the worst of all times and to move them forward from here. That's a rare kind of leadership others could learn much from.”  
“That is most kind of you to say, but I've only done what anyone would do in my position.” Valen laughed.  
“I've said something similar myself on more than one occasion, but people keep telling me I'm wrong.”  
“Perhaps then we are both wrong about ourselves.”  
“Maybe so,” he grinned. “Look, G'Quan, you've given me some invaluable information about the Great Enemy. I'd like to repay you; what can I do to help?”  
“You have already done it by assuring me that my own faith is, as you say, not misplaced; that we Narns will live on far into the future, that we will one day walk between the stars as a mighty force. It is one thing to know that the future is all around us, waiting to be born and to be revealed. It is another to receive a glimpse of it. It's the greatest gift I could receive.”  
“But I would have told you about that even if I hadn't learned anything here I didn't already know,” Valen protested with open hands. A smile creased G'Quan's spotted face.  
“Now I doubt your wisdom, friend. Where did you get the idea that there must be reciprocity in the valuation of gifts? Who is to say which one of us has gained more from our exchange than the other? Who is to say it matters? As for my paltry writings, I will keep scribbling them as time permits. And may I suggest that a leader whose soldiers will pick vegetables for a week at his command might consider doing likewise?” Valen smiled back.  
“We'll have to compare notes someday.”  
“Then I will see you again?”  
“I'd like to say yes, but ...” his smile faded. “Yours are not the only people with deep social divisions that must be addressed once the weapons of war have finally been put away. I don't know. But in Minbari there is no word for goodbye as we all meet again somewhere, in some fashion, if not in this life then another. So let us pledge to keep writing in anticipation of that day.” The two men rose smoothly to their feet. “It has been an honor to talk with you, G'Quan.”  
“And with you, Valen of Minbar.” Forgetting himself, Valen held out his hand for a shake. G'Quan looked at it for a moment and then divined the purpose of his gesture and grasped Valen's hand with his own. “Until we meet again,” he said, bowing his head and giving the Narn salute. Valen returned the gesture.  
“Until then.”


End file.
